Bedfellows
by kusegoto
Summary: The Matron of the Black Rose would have her at her side if plans would allow it - for now, Evelynn comes in the shadow of night to warm her bed. PWP.


The shadows change their shape when she comes around. They get a little darker, they get a little heavier, they take a shape Emilie LeBlanc can only manifest in the darkness of her thoughts for those stolen moments late at night.

It is _useless_ to tell her guest to use the front door of the estate and arrange herself as any other visitor. She _does_ slip through them, after all, through the shadows of the halls and in the corner of everyone's eye, up past the servants and attendants alike as she moves to the matron's chambers. She manifests in the moonlight, laying upon the chaise lounge she's personally taken a fancy to - plated in gold and dyed a deep red. Evelynn is relaxed, leg pulled up on the seat with her wrist hanging off her knee.

She looks at her host with her golden eyes and a wicked smile. Emilie matches it with a hip against the lounger's arm and a smile of her own.

"How I've missed your company," she confesses.

Evelynn looks down her body, then casts her eyes across the room, over the elegance and majesty of the master bedroom. She watches every corner with the attention of a jewel thief, yet even she knows she sits in the heart of Noxus' political empire - stealing from the empress herself is not something she has in mind. "I've been busy. But I've still been watching you."

Shadow before shadow. Deceiver studying widowmaker. Emilie takes an indulgent pleasure at the horror of being watched. Every corner she looks around and every shoulder she looks over is to keep herself secure; but the monster she keeps in her bed can watch.

She slips a leg beside Evelynn's, gently lowering herself down in the woman's lap. She can feel Evelynn's hands slip right over her hips, stopping right where they always stop. She supports Emilie's weight as the matron puts her arms over Evelynn's neck.

"What have you seen?" She asks, the laughter in her words as flirtatious as the way Evelynn's hands already want to touch what's under the dress. She came here because she wants Emilie. She will happily oblige. "I hope I've been entertaining."

Evelynn laughs, pretty and sweet. She sits herself up a little more, pulling herself to Emilie's stomach, even as it's clothed, nuzzling close. Her body is a little cold, like the shadows she slips through. Only a little. "You always are." A kiss. "There's something more interesting than your parlour tricks, though."

She can feel the question on her tongue but allows it to wither when Evelynn kisses her stomach again. Emilie's dress is dark blue, and suits the darkness of her bedroom, once illuminated by candlelight now snuffed out by the chill of her lover - only the moonlight remains. It is a slip that Evelynn knows well, slipping her hands through the slit near Emilie's thigh. Evelynn allows herself to slide back down, down to her back, and nudges Emilie over her, knees straddling her body and staring down at the other woman. They share their coy smiles, Emilie's more lax with how Evelynn trails her fingers over her thighs. She traces shapes along them, and when Emilie blinks slowly, she opens her eyes to notice Evelynn dipping below the skirt.

Immediately, she can feel Evelynn's cheeks pressing up against the inside of her thighs, exhaling against the crux of her legs and over the fabric of her underwear. The hands under her slide up with Evelynn, and Emilie's smile parts for her to breathe in when the other woman touches the warmth at their centre. Her position does not allow for the thin fabric to be slid down so easily, so when Evelynn prompts her to move her leg a certain way, she mourns her position as Evelynn moves her to pull them down. She's laughing, laughing her pretty laugh, a titter that skips the peak of her lungs like a stone on water, as Emilie takes her place over Evelynn once more, skin on skin. Evelynn's face is once more close to her body, pressing in, then receding - bringing Emilie's body lower, tongue now pressing in.

Emilie sighs, lowering her body a little more, mindful of how she supports herself even as Evelynn makes work of her core. Her tongue, even with how cold her skin is, is warm and inviting, coaxing her open and dragging up along the parts that make her shift and shudder. Emilie looks down, and wants to move her dress' skirt out of the way to watch her, but when she catches the glimpse of her shimmering hair and how it peeks out from under her, the obscurity makes her a little warmer.

It's a strange experience, allowing herself to be worked away, breathing a little louder every time Evelynn uses her tongue to seek out the most sensitive areas of her inner thigh that would yield the most divine sounds. A hand slips up the back of her leg to gently hold her hip, coaxing her down - Emilie holds off on doing so for only a moment, lolling her head back with Evelynn's name on her lips when she kisses her, and then lowers a little more, sitting as best she can on her lover's face. The hand that held her hip slips back down, curling her nails to drag down the length of her thigh, stroking her with her thumb. Her tongue curls against her and laps at her luridly, like tasting the essence of an oasis. Emilie can hear the hums - feel them - that she purrs against her, her own breathing becoming more unsteady the more Evelynn finds what she wants.

The pressure builds in the pit of Emilie's stomach - or even further below, the build up that she wants to hit with Evelynn's tongue on her. She groans out her name, voice low and needy, head falling back some more as Emilie arches her back and rides the other woman's face. With the utmost of grace - for she is still the Matron, even in her bedchambers, even with her mistress - she grinds her hips forward, to which Evelynn happily takes he thighs and pulls them in, mouth over her sweet honey core and toying with her folds. Emilie's hands move back to support her body, careful to not catch the woman's knees in her motion, yet even if she did she thinks it wouldn't matter - there's not much else she can think of but Evelynn's mouth, and how it moves, and Evelynn's name, as she moves her hips into her.

It hits her - as a white light, crashing into Emilie's lowest point and sparks the fire inside, and she comes with an open mouth and open eyes that slip close, a cry of _Evelynn_ as the mouth between her legs closes around her and tastes the most beautiful part of her. Emilie LeBlanc is almost wholly tipped back, and she breathes in sharp when the heat leaves her, body trembling when the waves slowly recede with Evelynn's mouth. She only vaguely registers that the woman slips from underneath her, pulling herself up from the hidden shade of Emilie's skirt - she only notes when she has to move her hands, and when she tips her head back forward to look at those beautiful yellow eyes blinking at her, lips pulled to an elated smile, thumb at her lower lip.

She wants to kiss her. She will, probably in a moment, because the very idea of tasting herself is a thought in her mind that never goes away in entanglements like these.

What she _does_ do is lean herself forward, feeling the cushion of the seat sigh under her knees, and put her hands on Evelynn. She doesn't understand the shadows - they're clothing, and then they're not, a dress of shadow that melts away to two breasts that are soft in Emilie's hands. She presses a thumb into one and Evelynn giggles, pulling herself up just a little bit and finding how to bring a leg out from under Emilie - she's so flexible, she wants to be surprised but she isn't - to hook around the waist that closes the distance.

"Go on," Evelynn whispers, eyes now lidded and hands roaming up her, finding the ties of the dress, "Undress. _Touch me_."

It does not take long to break apart and slip Emilie from her gown - it shimmers in the darkness of her room and slides down her, and she steps out of it while getting off the couch. Evelynn follows her, hands moving from the dress to Emilie, naked body against hers in an embrace that makes the cold of Emilie's heart melt away. Her hands find the curve of Evelynn's back and she all but pulls her along, mouth finally finding hers to keep that kiss while they dance towards her bed on the far side of the room. Evelynn drops herself back, breaking their embrace and watching Emilie hungrily, pulling herself up the mattress and silk sheets to the pillows. Her legs are parted, and even in darkness Emilie knows where she wants to be, moving up on to her bed to find her lover, the open window behind her long forgotten.

There is no light. There is no pale moon - only the yellow of Evelynn's eyes, and the rings of pink and blue. Her hair is soft white, and her skin is soft blue - she is topaz, and amethyst, and quartz, and sapphire, and all sorts of beautiful things.

Emilie's body, naked and overwarm from the attention Evelynn just delivered, moves against hers. She can hear Evelynn chuckle in their movements, legs moving and finding Emilie's hips, wet warmth briefly felt when she pulls her in. The light contact of Emilie's skin on hers makes Evelynn suck in a breath, and her smile is so _gorgeous_ as Emilie finds the way she wants to lean herself into her. She roams her hands, holding her waist and then her breasts again, touching the parts of her that make her smile twist a little more and her eyes glow a little wider.

Widowmaker. There's no woman but her, so there is not a widow to make.

She shifts position once more, a little shaky - Emilie answers the call from her own yearning core, legs tangled with legs, her body divinely against Evelynn's - the initial touch makes her breathe a little more, and she grinds slowly to wrench that sound out of Evelynn again, seeking her heavenly height. She rolls her hips again, utilising every available shard of patience and restraint to keep herself steady, moving against Evelynn and looking at her with a watchful, intimate eye - Evelynn's own loll back and her smile loosens for just a moment, lost in the sensation that rolls up the back of her spine. She groans a little louder than Emilie ever did, knowing just how loud to be, just how dramatic she can make it - it settles right in her lover, anyway, to put on a show.

Emilie pushes all of her weight into her, above her, against her - and it makes Evelynn grab her shoulders and hold her tight, the memory of whatever talons she hides under glamours and shadow felt. Evelynn is long past keeping her mouth shut, holding herself by a thread as the final glimpse of her humility giving away to be taken by Emilie, who moves her rolling hips in a way that thrusts forth and pushes against Evelynn. It is warm, and it is more than she can handle, the overheat finding her again and building inside, electric and sharp. Emilie can hold herself in until Evelynn gives her release to the night, a lascivious scream coming from her throat while Emilie continues to love her body hard - her vision hems in on Evelynn's beautiful face, her rolled eyes and open mouth, and the rest of the world doesn't exist as Evelynn screams and Emilie hits her second release of the night.

Her thrusts stutter to a halt, clearing her thoughts with a cold sweep of clarity. She collapses on top of Evelynn, panting and gasping - Emilie angles her head to face Evelynn, and with the last of her strength she moves the bulk of her weight off of her, draping her limbs over her body. With a slightly quivering hand, she strokes the girl's face and kisses her cheek, murmuring her name with a touch of possession. Evelynn's body courses with the waves of release, the leg free of Emilie's body coming up and hanging off to the side, giving herself some more space between her legs to cool herself down. Back to the cold of shadow, back to the familiar shade - heat comes in moments like these.

Evelynn turns her head to look at Emilie as well. Her mouth hangs open, breathing her in as she catches her breath, and then it breaks to a smile. She says her name - the cherished one, the one nobody hears, _Emilia_ \- and rolls it a little more in the pillow. A hand comes up to Emilie's wrist, like she's keeping her there.


End file.
